


A Hair's Breadth

by Cali_se



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Angst, Falling In Love, Ficlet, Friendship/Love, M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3795889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cali_se/pseuds/Cali_se
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sleepless night for Fred...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hair's Breadth

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [ Almost](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2689688.html#cutid1)

It's been a while since Fred's had a sleepless night - that is, for reasons other than a tricky case he couldn't quite crack. 

But tonight is a different kettle of fish altogether. It's been fretful so far, spent mostly staring into the darkness, his heart filled with an overwhelming guilt-edged longing. It brings to mind his teenage years, endless nights spent yearning for another's touch; all those times he had thought himself in love.

He glances across to check if Win is asleep and eases himself quietly out of bed, then pulls on his dressing gown to make his way downstairs. 

All is quiet in the house. His family are asleep, safe and sound. The thought of it makes his heart ache. Would he lose them if they knew why he was up at this hour?

He pours himself a drink and clicks on a table lamp. Alcohol has hitherto been a calming friend to Fred (for the most part), but now it feels scarily like an anaesthetic; and he is torn between wanting to be anaesthetised and wanting to remember everything...

Endeavour had been so close on that staircase, their mouths had been a hair's breadth apart. The lad had leaned in, clearly meaning to... And then the moment had gone and Fred had taken charge. He's passed the test, for the time being, but he knows full well that this is not the end of it, not while Morse is within reach, not while he has those lips, those eyes, that dear earnest gaze... 

Fred takes a swig of whiskey and closes his eyes. Endeavour's features light up the darkness against his lids, as though they are imprinted. He can smell him too: his hair, his clothes. He imagines him, fresh out of the bath, his skin glistening all over as droplets of water drip from his hair... 

Fred's breath catches at the thought, and he swigs back more whiskey to swallow down the churning desire in one gulp. It feels too raw, all this, too real; and it scares him far too much to explore it. 

Tomorrow is another day, he tells himself, straightening himself up against the chair cushions. He'll face the lad square on, maintain a professional air, do his job; be his boss.

And he'll leave it to the quiet of the night to remind him just how much he longs to be more.


End file.
